Powerless
by HermioneAndDraco4eva
Summary: Hermione is in an abusive relationship and wants out. Who will save her?
1. Her POV

**Her POV:**

Even in sleep she couldn't escape him.

That once handsome, familiar face twisted and disfigured by his own anger and hatred to something inhuman. Unknown rage building up inside him until he lashed out at her. Struck her face. Kicked her while she was down. Smashed up their house.

She twisted and turned, becoming entangled deeper and deeper in her sheets, trying to get away.

The bed covers trapping her body were now his arms, restricting her, his hands, wrapped around her throat, choking her, cutting off her air supply.

With a conscious jerk she pulled herself from the dark realms of the nightmare and awoke, covered in a cold sweat and panting as if she really had been fighting to get away from his deadly clutch.

She lay still for a moment, terrified in the dark, listening for his heavy breathing. Hearing none she sighed in relief. He must still be down at the pub. Untangling herself she slipped silently out of the large bed and padded over to the bathroom. Locking the door behind her and flicking on the soft lights she made her way over to the massive mirror that nearly covered an entire wall. She studied her pale features, noting the hair made damp from sweat and her eyes, still wide and terrified looking. Chest still heaving she tugged down the silken neck line of her pale pink night dress, seeing the edge of a huge blossoming purple bruise on her collar bone.

Pulling her arms out of the sleeves completely she tugged the sticky nightie off her body and stepped out of it. Standing in just her underwear she turned so as to see her back in the mirror. What should have been pale unmarked skin was in actual fact a mess of yellow, purple and black-blue bruises. Small scabbed cuts were also dotted over her lower back, where she had fallen on smashed glass when he had pushed her over some nights ago.

Turning to face the mirror properly she could also see cuts and older bruises covering her stomach and breasts. Newer ones were appearing on her right hand side.

Not being able to stand the sight of her battered body any longer, she wrapped herself in a massive, warm fluffy blue towel and sat on the floor. She began to sob. How had she let this happen?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Duh **

**A/N- It starts off quite sad I think but it just had to be that way….I'll try update soon but I seem to have writers block! Its killing me as I've made so little progress lately…R&R please fellow Potter fans! **

**P.s. No one has checked this story for me, so sorry for any mistakes!**


	2. His POV

**His POV:**

Blaise stumbled across the darkened room, occasionally tripping over the shapes of furniture that loomed up out of the shadows. Where was that little slut?

The muffled sound of sobbing was coming from the direction of the bathroom…so there she was. Hiding. Deliberately running away. Annoying the fuck out of him.

He managed to get to the bathroom door without making too much noise (a considerable feat considering just how wasted he was)

Still the sobbing continued.

He was going to teach that whining bitch a lesson. For life.

Face set into a snarl of rage he grabbed the door handle and twisted. Locked. That wasn't going to stop him. He staggered back a few paces before running at the door and slamming into it with his shoulder. And again. And again. Hermione began to scream. The door began to give. The rage began building. Then with an almighty CRASH it was all over and the door came off its hinges.

Now where was she? Ah. There. Cowering over near the bath. Wrapped in only a big blue towel. Tears dripping silently down her face. Wailing.

Bitch.

Breathing heavily he stepped over the door and kicked her. Hard. The wailing stopped.

His slurred, beery voice filled the bathroom, bouncing off the marble countertops and making it sound louder and more aggressive than usual.

"Think you could hide did you? Think you could get away from me?!"

"N-n-no!" she stammered, "I just n-needed the loo!"

"Stop lying to me!" he roared and kicked her in the ribs again.

"I'm not! P-please don't hurt me anymore! I'll do whatever you say! Just don't h-hurt me!" she beseeched, her eyes wide and full of tears.

"You little slut! I know you've been sleeping round! You deserved to be punished!"

"I haven't! I s-swear it!" she sobbed.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up" he ground out, kicking at her with all his strength at each word.

When she made no move to protect herself he got angrier.

So she thought he'd leave if she let him kick her for awhile did she?

Bitch, that wasn't even the start of her punishment!

Slowly gathering up his anger he began to kick her harder and harder.

Then punch her.

Then smash her head on the floor.

Then throw her against the wall.

But still Hermione didn't retaliate. She never did.

Anyway this had happened many many times before. Why should she bother to fight for herself now?

**Disclaimer: If I didn't own it last chapter how could I now??**

**A/N: Well here you all go! Chapter 2. Sorry for the long wait, but I couldn't post it till I started the next chapter, or else I would never have carried on writing it! Again sorry for any mistakes and thank you to all my reviewers! Reading your reviews made my day!**** Anyway I hope to get the next chapter up quicker than this one...thank you all again! **

**Ciao **


	3. Authors Note

**A/N: Bad news all. Im leaving the country in two days for England. That means I probably wont be on fanfiction for the whole length of time that im gone, which is four weeks. BUT THEN…..im back for twelve days then im off to America for three weeks! So I can't see myself updating any time soon. I'll try my very best and will write new chapters whenever I can…so sorry all! **

**--HermioneAndDraco4eva**


	4. Discovered

**A/N: I forgot to mention, this story partially disregards DH, so don't get confused if the plot doesn't work to the 7****th**** book ok? **

**Getting out:**

Panting slightly from the beating she shut her eyes.  
She could feel the blood slowly but surely dripping from the gashes all over her body, some inflicted by wand, still others by hand.  
She could also feel one eye swelling shut, her lip was most definitely split and she was fairly sure her wrist and at least three ribs were broken.  
The big mirror on the wall had also been smashed (a badly aimed _sectumsempra _spell had done it, she thought) and the pieces of glass all over the floor were embedding themselves in her tender flesh every time she moved, so she stayed still.  
From somewhere above her came Blaise's voice, still rough with anger, "I'm barely done with you, you little slut, but first," here he paused to sneer down at her, "…first I'm off to have another drink down the pub with my mates. Don't bother sending for help because if you do and you manage to escape I will track you down and kill you! Goddit?"  
Hermione nodded mutely.  
He spat down at her then stumbled out of the bathroom, knocking a chair over on his way out.

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Hermione dragged herself up into a sitting position and wondered what to do. This beating had been longer and more violent than usual. She was under no doubts that if she let them go on, she would eventually be killed, accidentally or not.  
And she didn't doubt that Blaise's threat was an empty one.  
She knew he had meant every word, which left her in a difficult situation.  
Should she run or stay put?

After sitting still for a few more minutes she decided to go back to bed. There was nothing else she could do and sleeping would stop her feeling the pain.  
Clutching the marble countertop Hermione pulled herself up, sucking in a quick breath of air as a sharp stab of pain went through her broken ribs.  
Having got herself upright the next task was to get from the bathroom to the bedroom.  
_You can do it Hermione_ she willed herself _Not far to go…_  
She finally reached the bed and pulled back the deep navy bed sheets, and when she turned around, she was not at all surprised to find a trail of crimson blood leading from her bed to the bathroom.  
The blood cuts induced by magic just wouldn't stop bleeding.  
She felt faint.  
Gently lowering herself into the soft bed she had barely lain her head on the pillow before her body succumbed to the blackness awaiting her.

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"Blaise?" a male voiced softly called out.  
"Blaise?" the voice was getting more insistent now.  
"Blaise where the hell are you??" it finally yelled impatiently.  
Hearing no response an annoyed Draco Malfoy stepped out of the fire-place and (after brushing some ash off his white designer shirt) started to walk around the darkened house.  
"Blaise you idiot, you were supposed to meet me at the pub! And no-one, NO-ONE stands up Draco Malfoy! Ever. So where are you?!"  
Upstairs in her bed, Hermione stirred a little.  
"BLAISE!" he half-yelled now.  
Still no response.  
"God you idiot," he muttered to himself, "Did you pass out somewhere again? Mudblood too hard for you to handle?"

Although his voice was steady as he said it, Draco flinched at the word 'Mudblood'.  
He didn't really believe in superiority for Pure-bloods or any of the crap his father had come out with back in the days of Voldemort.  
But even though Lucius had seen Voldemort destroyed with his own eyes he was still under the crazy delusion that his master would come back once more.  
He had forsaken and given up on his Lord once, and had been severely punished for it. He was not going to make the same mistake again.  
And if Draco didn't wish to be flayed and beaten to within an inch of his life he had to (pretend) to go along with his fathers bizarre ideas.  
But he had vowed that as soon as he could get out of his arranged marriage with Pansy (here he shuddered) and move out of home he would renounce his fathers ways and live by his own opinions.  
He sighed.  
That would be the day.  
Suddenly realising that he had stopped walking he pulled himself out of the myriad of thoughts muddling his brain and continued to search for his friend.

It had taken him a full half an hour to comb the first floor of the Zabini mansion and by then he was thoroughly tired of his little 'treasure hunt' for his friend.  
He had just resolved to leave when he heard a soft scream uttered from an upstairs room, and as he was at the bottom of the wide marble staircase he decided to take a look, lest his pal be upstairs with a 'woman of the night' and had forgotten their meeting.  
Draco bitterly chuckled to himself.  
That would be just like Blaise, to cheat on his beautiful, smart, kind and loving wife with a random whore.  
If he himself had had a wife like Hermione he would have cherished her and made her feel loved, not sullied their marriage with lies and prostitutes.  
Sometimes Blaise didn't know just how lucky he was.

Slowly climbing the stairs Draco remembered Blaise and Hermione's wedding day.  
Hermione had been radiant in a plain white silk dress, with her chestnut curls gleaming in the sun and a new golden wedding ring on her finger.  
She had danced all night with Blaise, who was dressed in a crisp black tux with a rose in his top button hole.  
The air had smelled of honey-suckle and new opportunities and everyone had felt carefree and happy.  
Of course Draco had been Blaise's best man, back when they still spoke to one another every day and valued each others friendship.  
A lot had changed since then.  
The war had separated and changed a lot of people for and even though both men still referred to the other as his 'friend' they barely had time for each other any more, beyond the occasional stop in and Christmas card.  
That was one of the reasons Draco had been so mad that Blaise had forgotten their meeting, he had desperately wanted to talk to the other man and try to salvage the last shreds of their friendship.  
But it seemed as though Blaise had chosen to instead get it off with a prostitute.

He certainly couldn't imagine that it was Hermione making those noises, she was always so dignified and gracious that imagining her screaming for Blaise was akin to imagining her running naked down the street covered in chocolate.  
Not that he would mind seeing a sight like that.  
One did have to admit she had a beautiful body…

Again pulling himself back to proper consciousness he reached the top of the stairs and paused for a moment, listening again for the noise.  
_Ah ha!_ He thought, _There it is!_  
The scream was slightly louder now and seemed to be coming form the left passageway, so he turned that way and started along until he came to the master bedroom.  
The noise seemed to be coming from inside.

Pushing open the door an inch, he called in "Blaise, is that you? I'm coming in ok? So cover yourself up if you're with another damn whore because we need to talk! I don't care what you say, I'm coming in now alright?" and with that he opened the door properly and walked in.  
There was no light on in the room so he felt his way over to the table he knew to be in the middle of the wide room and flicked on the lamp sitting on it.  
A golden glow filled the massive room and partially illuminated the big triple king sized bed.  
Surprisingly enough, Draco could only see ONE figure withering around in it.  
Confused he walked closer to the bed.

Another low scream.

More twisting and turning.

He reached the bed.

The covers were shielding the person from his eyes.

He gently leaned over and peeled them back.

What he saw made him gasp out in horror and reel back.

The person in the bed was Hermione.

And she was absolutely covered in blood and withering about in agony.

**A/N: What do you think? This chapter is quite a bit longer than the previous ones but as soon as I sat down to properly start writing I couldn't stop! So im extremely sorry for the long delay between chapters but I was under the impression I had writers block when I didn't really :P anyway thank you to all my wonderful reviewers past, present and hopefully future! **

**-HermioneAndDraco4eva**


	5. The Right Choice

_He reached the bed. _

_The covers were shielding the person from his eyes. _

_He gently leaned over and peeled them back._

_What he saw made him gasp out in horror and reel back._

_The person in the bed was Hermione. _

_And she was absolutely covered in blood and withering about in agony._

* * *

A horrified Draco stood outside in the cool night hair, breathing in deeply and trying not to be sick again.

He had been so unprepared for what he had seen that he had almost collapsed from shock. It had taken all his will to stop himself passing out, not to mention the effort it had taken to manage to get outside before throwing up.

A few more deep breaths and he felt a little better. But better enough to go back upstairs again?

He didn't know if he would be able to stomach seeing that again. Ever. Especially voluntarily.

Even though his father fully supported the Dark Lord, the worst he had ever been subjected to seeing was Professor Burbage hanging over the table that long distant night ago, then being murdered. Lord knows there was absolutely no blood but he had still fainted clean away straight afterwards, much to the disdain of everyone at the table. A few Cruico's from his father after everyone had left chuckling had fixed his weak stomach. Or so he'd thought. This definitely wasn't in the job description for being friends with Blaise. Maybe he should just leave and let it all be sorted out by someone else…

Eventually his pounding heart calmed though, and he was able to think straight. How could he have even considered leaving Hermione in the state she was in? There was no other option, he would have to help.

Draco took one last calming breath before walking back inside. Slowly walking back up the stairs he thought through what he had seen. From what he was able to discern from the quick glance he had gotten, the blood was stemming from wounds all over her body, not just one particular place. That would make his job all the more harder.

Looking up he realized that he had reached the bedroom door. He could hear her whimpering in pain now that she was conscious. The sound tore at his heart and made him want to simultaneously comfort her and run far, far away. But though the latter choice was more to his style, Draco still pushed open the bedroom door and walked in once again.

As soon as the door had opened the noises Hermione had been making stopped, Draco was relieved yet slightly worried, she hadn't gone and died on him had she? But no, it was all ok, she was still alive. He could tell from the movement in the bed. It seemed as though she had curled in on herself under the covers. This confused Draco slightly, and then it dawned on him, _Ah _he thought, _the foetal position. She obviously thinks I'm the person who caused her harm, and is trying to protect herself as best she can under the circumstances. _She was probably terrified. He didn't know whether to just walk over to her or try and talk to her, explaining that he wasn't here to hurt her, only help. He decided the second option would probably get him further, lest she decided to attack.

"H-hermione?" he tentatively asked, "It's me Draco. Draco Malfoy. I-I'm here to help you. I know you've been badly hurt and I just want to help ok?" he could scarcely believe these words of comfort were coming from his mouth. This whole situation was crazy. "We'll get you all better you'll see. Then everything will be just fine." Draco was slowly walking towards the bed while talking, cautiously stepping forward, trying not to startle Hermione. "I don't know who did this to you, but they'll be punished! Just you wait and see." he had reached the bed now, and stuck out a hand to touch her back, as she was still curled under the bed sheets, breathing as quietly as possible. "As soon as Blaise see's wh-" at this point he was cut off as Hermione had sat bolt upright in the bed. "Blaise?" she whispered, pure fear uncoiling in her eyes, and before Draco could answer she had leapt out of the bed and snatched her ward from the bedside table, spinning where she stood, casting her eyes over every nook and cranny in the big room.

"Where is he?!" She spat, her whole body tensed as if ready to spring at a moments notice. Draco didn't know what to say, he stood rooted to the spot, utterly shocked at this sudden turn of events.

"Does he know you've seen me like this??" she demanded, still probing the room with her eyes, still holding her wand ready to attack. Once Draco had recovered the use of his voice he managed to answer her questions. "I, uh, don't know where your, uh, husband is at the moment. I, um, don't think he knows that I'm currently, ah, at your house." Here Draco paused to clear his throat, his voice gaining back its strength and usual the arrogance slipping back into his tone the longer he spoke. "I was supposed to meet him down at, the, ah, pub, you see, but he never turned up. So I came here. And found you looking like…well…like _that_" he finished with a half gesture towards the battered and insane looking Hermione, who looked down at herself. She didn't even appear mildly surprised to find herself standing half naked and swaying on the spot, with blood covering most of her body.

"What this?" she asked in a tone of fake surprise. "This is nothing! Just a little…Halloween prank for Blaise!" she attempted a merry laugh, the sound getting caught halfway in her throat, making it sound more like a sob. Draco raised an eyebrow at the word Halloween. "Hermione," he stated gently, "its March. Halloween isn't for another seven months." Tears rose in Hermione's eyes at this statement but she blinked them away as fast as she could. Draco pretended he hadn't seen. "I know," she whispered, "I was just getting in some p-practice. Do you like my…costume?" The ghost of a smile appeared on Draco's face. Even with no way out she still chose to protect her attacker by lying.

_How noble,_ he thought, _noble and stupid. Just like all Gryffindor's. _The fight seemed to be leaving Hermione's body, the tension unknotting from her shoulders and her wand arm slowly lowering. Taking this as a good sign Draco stepped towards Hermione and held out his hand, "Come on Hermione, we need to get you cleaned up. Then we can talk this through." She considered his hand for a fraction of a second, confusion on her eyes, before placing her small, bloodied hand in his and stepping forwards. He looked down at her slim bruised face and into her beautiful hazel eyes. They seemed, to him, to be flecked with gold. Her hand tightened its hold on his and a tear slid down her face. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't want it to. But I deserve everything I get." Her voice became quieter and quieter with every word she spoke, until he was bent over, his ear next to her pretty pink shell mouth. He couldn't believe what she was saying. Before he had the chance to retort and defend her, however, a sudden series of events occurred.

At the same moment Hermione collapsed into Draco's arms, he heard the front door slam open and a familiar voice yell angrily "DRACO? ARE YOU HERE YOU DICKHEAD?" the voice was definitely Blaise's. Draco's eyes opened wide in surprise. He couldn't let Blaise see him holding an unconscious, half-naked, bloodied Hermione! Even without the amount of alcohol inside Blaise this would be a bad situation to be found in! Draco spun around, still clutching Hermione, looking for a good hiding spot.

Then the footsteps reached the stairs and Draco knew he was screwed.

* * *

**A/N: So sorry about the long wait!! i have no (good) excuse, so you'll just have to accept my sincere apologies.**

**Anyway, hope you like the latest chapter, sorry it isnt as long as the previous one! but you know what could prompt me to write a longer one? why reviews of course! **

-HermioneAndDraco4eva


	6. Fleeing

He couldn't let Blaise see him holding an unconscious, half-naked, bloodied Hermione

_He couldn't let Blaise see him holding an unconscious, half-naked, bloodied Hermione! Even without the amount of alcohol inside Blaise this would be a bad situation to be found in! Draco spun around, still clutching Hermione, looking for a good hiding spot._

_Then the footsteps reached the stairs and Draco knew he was screwed. _

Draco pushed his eye to the crack in the door, breathing heavily. Hermione lay slumped across the bed, still in the same position he had dumped her seconds earlier_. _

From the angle he was at, Draco could only see a splayed arm and her hair hanging off the edge of the bed, but she still looked to be unconscious.

The opening of the bedroom door pushed all other thoughts from Draco's head and he watched silently as Blasie staggered into the room, bringing with him the strong smell of Firewhiskey.

Draco prayed that in his drunken state, Blaise wouldn't take it into his head to search for his wife's attacker. The couples walk-in wardrobe certainly wasn't the best hiding spot in the house, and Draco did defiantly NOT want to meet a very pissed off and drunk Blaise while covered in his wife's blood.

All these thoughts rushed out of his head; however, when peering out into the bedroom again, Draco saw that Blaise had just reached the bed.

The fact that Hermione was unconscious and dripping blood onto the blue silk bed-sheets obviously still hadn't penetrated Blaise's alcohol soaked mind, as he was just standing there, the same mad expression on his face.

Draco was still waiting for the look of shock and horror to cross Blaise's face as the realization that Hermione had been attacked hit him.

The look never came.

A much worse one stole its place instead.

Utter loathing and hatred marred Blaise's handsome face as he looked down at his bloodied wife, and as quick as lightning he had raised his fist and smashed in into Hermione's face.

Draco could not believe what he had just seen. Blaise had just punched Hermione. What was going on?

A dull _thump_ brought Draco's panicked and confused mind back to the horrifying scene before him. It seemed Blaise had pushed Hermione off the bed, and had now proceeded to kick her in the stomach. Now Draco was no Healer, but he knew for certain that Hermione wasn't going to be able to take much more. She was already exhausted from the previous attack, and now she was being subjected to a violent and (so Draco thought) random beating from her loving husband! Blaise was obviously out of his mind and needed to be stopped.

And then, with no thought for his own safety, Draco rushed from his hiding place with his wand raised and his arm stretched out, shouting spells as he went, "_Stupify! Incarcerous!"_ The effect was instantaneous. Blaise suddenly froze and kneeled over, his whole body covered in thick ropes. Only his eyes could move, and judging from the bulging and rolling they were doing, Blaise wasn't very happy with the current situation.

Hermione however, was a different story. She didn't even appear to notice that the beating had stopped. She simply lay shuddering on the ground, her pupils dilated with fear and clutching her stomach. Her mouth was moving also. Saying the same two words over and over again. Draco leaned closer, wondering what she was saying. What he heard made his breath catch in his throat and his heart start beating faster in a panic, though he did not know why. "My baby…my baby…my baby…" she kept on muttering and holding her stomach.

Then Draco noticed the blood soaking through her underwear and onto the floor and came to a horrible realisation…Hermione had just had a miscarriage.

Instantly knowing that she wouldn't last much longer in this condition Draco decided to yet again take action, so without even considering the consequences of his actions, he stooped down and gathered her frail body into his arms, and set off at a run for the downstairs fireplace.

**A/N: Ok so it's super short and it took me AGES to update. I am really really sorry! Life is just hectic at the moment.**

**Anyway**** its my birthday tomorrow, so guess what the best ever present would be? REVIEWS! **

**HermioneAndDraco4eva**


	7. Hideaway

_Instantly knowing that she wouldn't last much longer in this condition Draco decided to yet again take action, so without even considering the consequences of his actions, he stooped down and gathered her frail body into his arms, and set off at a run for the downstairs fireplace. _

Draco tumbled out of the fireplace, still clutching a near naked Hermione to his chest. His breathing ragged, Draco peered around into the gloom, unconsciously pressing Hermione closer to his chest and hoping no one had heard his noisy entrance in the large house. When no one came, his breathing slowed and Draco quickly yet quietly started to walk out of the room he was in. He didn't need a light to show him the way. He knew his way around this hated house in the dark like the back of his hand. He was, of course, back in Malfoy Manor.

Shuddering slightly as unbidden, painful memories from his childhood swam around his brain, he stepped through a side door and into another large, dark, cold room and from there into a hallway and up a staircase. Breath rising a cloud in front of him, Draco quietly and carefully negotiated his way to the east wing of the house – a wing which happened to be his alone. Hopefully everything was still intact and the house elves would be discreet about his 'guests' none too welcome presence.

Draco suddenly stopped. There was a creaking on the staircase ahead of him.

"Draco?" a soft voice called. "Draco sweetie, is that you?"

Draco gave a silent sigh. Of course the one person he would have to run into would be Pansy. He vaguely wondered why she was even up at the Manor. As soon as Lucius had announced the engagement (with no word of consent from Draco) the lovely couple had been moved to one of the 3 storey houses in the grounds. Pansy had loved all the 'alone time' this had granted them, and attempted to keep Draco from everyone at all times so they could play house. It annoyed him no end and he couldn't wait to be free of the vile thoughts aside, Draco quickly spun and ducked into the closest open door on this landing, looking for a place to hide. A small groan escaped Hermione's lips at the sudden movement and Draco froze on the spot, standing only inches behind the half open door. He desperately held his breath and silently prayed that Hermione wouldn't make any more noise. He heard Pansy stop just outside, and could imagine the intense look of concentration on her ugly pug face. He mentally shuddered and waited, hoping she would get distracted by something and leave so he could attend to Hermione, whom he was sure was dripping blood all over the floor.

Pansy gave a loud sigh and tramped down the rest of staircase.

Draco prayed to God that she wouldn't look down and notice the splatters of blood leading up the staircase she was currently descending – the splatters of blood that mysteriously stopped right in front of the room they were hiding in. Luckily for him and Hermione both, Pansy was heading towards the back doors, out onto the grounds again, muttering all the way about uncaring (but rich) fiancées. Draco slowly breathed out again, and counted to 100 before dashing out of the room and heading up the next staircase. A few dusty secret passages and winding flights of stairs later, he came to the large double oak doors leading to his part of the house. Leaning in close to the doors, the ghost of a breath fell on the doors, a silent password in it. They swung silently open, welcoming Draco and his 'guest' inside. Once he had jogged through the state rooms, living rooms and passed his personal library, Draco came to the final door in his wing, the one leading to his bedroom. He quickly shouldered the door open, glancing down at Hermione's face as he did. What he saw alarmed him and made him sprint for his huge bed on the other side of the house sized room. Hermione's face was deathly white, her lips and cheeks bleached of all colour. Her breathing was low and unsteady and she hadn't moved voluntarily for quite awhile now.

As soon as she was lying down, Draco clapped his hands and called "Kretcher!" in a low voice. The little elf immediately appeared by Draco's side, and gazed up at him lovingly. Kretcher was thin and boney, but was still clean and smiling, just as he was after Harry, Ron and Hermione's kindness had changed him. After the war, Draco had personally asked for Kretcher to work for him, and promised the elf a life free of hardships (no need to fight Death Eaters with knives ever again!) The little elf had jumped at the chance, stating that working at Hogwarts was good, but he was truly meant to serve ancient families. Kretcher was, from then on, Draco's most loyal and trusted house-elf – the only other being he could rely on in this house to help him save Hermione's life.

"Kretcher this is a matter of life and death. I intend to save this young witches life, but to do that, I am going to need your help. First things first…." Here Draco reeled off a list of instructions, including the medical equipment he would need. Kretcher nodded quickly, and disappeared with an audible POP, returning almost at once with a single sheet of paper – Hermione's medical history. Draco scanned the paper impatiently, finally finding the information he needed. "AB!" he exclaimed, and Kretcher disappeared once again. "AB" he muttered again, "A rare blood type…it will be difficult getting enough for a transfusion. But if the worst comes to worst, I can always…" here he trailed off, staring anxiously at her tiny, battered form. He slowly lent over her, his breath causing the tangled hair lying across her face to dance about. Carefully, cautiously, he tucked the stray pieces behind her ears and willed her to open her eyes. Just once.

Even a flicker would do.

Nothing.

He stood up quickly, just in time to see Kretcher reappear with a couple of bags of blood, an IV stand, a clear plastic case full of hospital essentials and a small bag that clinked as he moved. Kretcher shuffled as fast as he could to Hermione's bedside, dragging the IV with him as he did so. Draco knew that she didn't have long left – her chalk white face and shallow breathing said it all. He hooked the drip up to Hermione's left arm as quickly as he could, warming the first bag of blood with a quickly muttered spell as he did. Once the bag was attached to the IV stand and blood was creeping down the length of clear tubing into her arm he tipped the contents of the small clinking bag onto his bedside table. Potions he had collected over the past few years, some stolen from St. Mungo's, some from Hogwarts and even more from his Uncle Snape. He hurriedly searched through the small bottles, knocking more than one on the floor as he did so. With a hissed "Yes!" he snatched up a dark blue flask, ripping the stopper from it as fast as he could without spilling a drop – he flung out a hand in Kretchers direction, smiling slightly as the serious little elf placed an eye-dropper in his palm. Siphoning a small amount of the golden swirling liquid into the dropper, Draco carefully eyed Hermione's still form. The biggest magical cut seemed to be the one running directly over her collarbone – he lent over her once again, gritted his teeth, and careful dripped the golden liquid onto the wound. The skin around the edges of the cut began to steam, the golden liquid itself solidifying so it blocked the flow of blood. Draco repeated this process at least 9 more times, stopping near the end to place a new bag of blood on the IV stand. When he was finished, he mopped the sweat and blood off his face with a damp towel Kretcher held out ready for him.

The next step – non magical wounds. This meant removing the glass from her back, healing her wrist and ribs and cleaning the regular cuts covering her body. Draco didn't give himself time to think before diving headfirst into these tasks…if he stopped for even a minute, he was going to go completely insane, and hunt that son-of-a-BITCH, Blaise, down. And then he was going to….he took a deep, calming breath, focusing his thoughts once again. Now was not the time to get carried away. Now was the time to save Hermione Grangers fucking life!

A very long hour and a half later, Draco sat slumped on the floor next to his bed, which now contained a still beaten, but very much alive Hermione. The colour had returned to her face, the blood had been washed off her body, a multitude of cuts and bruises had been healed and the solidified golden liquid had faded to match the colour of her skin. But while her body was already on the way to recovery, he knew her mind wasn't. She had been given a sleepless dream potion at the end of the healing, but who knew what state she would be in when she awoke? Draco decided that was a problem best left till later, and tiredly asked Kretcher to guard the doors of the wing till he woke later. He didn't even want to THINK about what would happen if Pansy or one of his parents found them in this state….he glanced down at the crook of his arm, a small ball of cotton taped over the vein. There hadn't been enough blood in the end, and Draco had had no option other than to give Hermione some of his. It was beyond lucky that they were the same blood type…their blood looked the exact same anyway. "Mudblood indeed" he whispered sarcastically, moving to lie down. As soon as his head touched the dark wood of the floor, he was asleep, a sleep as deep and dreamless as that of the broken woman above him. Kretcher quietly conjured a pillow and blanket for his exhausted young master, before taking his place just inside the East Wing doors, and silently watching the first rays of the morning sun creep through the large windows.

Draco had made more than one sacrifice tonight, and Kretcher desperately hoped that his master would not have to suffer the consequences too greatly.

**A/N: Ok so I just HAD to bring Kretcher back. Poor soul isn't a Hogwarts elf! Also I am deeply sorry for my 2 year hiatus - it wasn't intended at all, and I sincerely promise that my next update will be less than 2 years from now. Still, I hope that at least one person will be glad of an update, even if nothing much happens in this chapter - it was more of a way to settle myself back into writing fanfic, but I hope you enjoy anyway!  
**


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